


A Friendly Hand

by gaylock



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco just wants to be Harry's friend, Drarry, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Harry just wants stability, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Oblivious Ron, Pansy is a jealous bitch, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, Smart Hermione Granger, petty revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:58:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylock/pseuds/gaylock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over, and Draco is back at Hogwarts for his final and eighth year. His house has ostracized him, his father is in Azkaban, his mother is a non-entity, and his only two friends and godfather are dead. He is feeling lost and alone, and doesn't really know how to be himself without the war to lean on. Lucky for him, he isn't the only one who feels this way; Harry Potter admits to feeling the same. Their cease fire and friendship has a rocky start, but with a little work and a lot of angst, maybe they'll both find what they need in each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy sat in an empty, quiet corner of the library, a few books scattered across the table in front of him. He was deeply engrossed in the current book he was reading, when his ears picked up the sound of footsteps approaching. Thinking it the librarian, Madam Pince, Draco ignored it. It wasn’t until the footsteps stopped when they reached him that he realized it wasn’t the librarian at all. Sighing softly, he looked up, only to frown when he saw who it was. Harry Potter.

  
Harry _Bloody_ Potter. Or, as Draco liked to call him, The Boy Who Lived To Be Annoying. Ever since that very first day at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends had been nothing but a thorn in Draco’s side. Continuously ruining his plans, getting him in trouble, beating him in every class as well as in Quidditch. But although Harry and his friends had done their best to make his school life a torturous experience, Draco had a different reason for hating Harry Potter. A specific reason, all for him. Because on that very first day there, before any of them had been sorted, before any divides were made, Harry had done something unforgivable. Draco, who had been surrounded by people he didn’t know, with only a few children of his parent’s friends, had been feeling lost and nervous and alone. But when he had finally seen a familiar face among the crowd, someone he recognized from outside of his parent’s social circle, he had felt a little more in control of the situation. Despite the fact that the child was famous, Draco decided to offer his hand in friendship. It was the first move of solidarity, the first individual thing Draco had ever dared to do, the first time he had ever defied his father’s wishes. So it hurt, a lot, when his offer was rejected. Partly because he was not used to rejection from anyone but his father, and partly because it was publicly humiliating. But mostly because, Draco had really wanted Harry to be his friend.

So now, in their final year at Hogwarts, which was, admittedly, a do-over for last year, Draco couldn’t help but frown every time he saw the other boy. Because now Draco was an individual, now he no longer lived in the image of his father, and had created his own path during the war and chosen to fight for his family rather than for his fathers’ beliefs. So he shouldn’t need Potter for anything, shouldn’t need him to help find individuality and self-security. But still, after all that time, after all the years, after all the fighting and taunting and rudeness, Draco still couldn’t help it. He wanted Harry to be his friend. 

Of course, he couldn’t say that. Not after years of pretending to hate the other boy. Not after calling his friends and parents awful names, and certainly not after being the one responsible for the death of so many people. No, he couldn’t say it, shouldn’t even think it. Thinking things like that, impossible things, only led to trouble. So sitting there, at an empty table in a quiet corner of the school library, Draco put on his mask, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow while smirking.

“Potter.”

Harry Potter stood in front of the table and looked down at Draco through his glasses. Draco took in the messy hair and messier tie knot and smirked.  
Potter responded in his usual fashion. “Malfoy.” 

Draco leaned back in his chair before realizing that Harry was without his usual Gryffindor entourage. Which was weird, especially since after the war it seemed Granger and the Weasel were always with him. “Where are your sidekicks?”

He watched Harry stiffen. “You mean my friends? Oh right, you probably don't know what that word means, seeing as Slytherins don't _have_ friends, just lackeys.” He glared down at the blonde. Draco jolted slightly at the acerbic tone, but tried to hide it behind a scoff. It was suitably casual though, because it wouldn’t do to let Harry know just how much that statement had hurt. Draco scowled to himself. Yeah, we don’t have friends, but that’s only because everyone _rejects our sincere offers of friendship when we are young and impressionable you absolute arsehole._

  
He didn’t say that, of course. No, instead he snapped his book shut and propped his feet up on the table, affecting a mock offended look. “Wow, I’m offended. Seriously though, Golden Boy, why are you alone?”

  
Harry sighed and Draco watched as he visibly sagged, his previously stiff spine curling in slightly. “Don't call me that. And I just...needed some time away from them, I guess. Away from the common room.” He shrugged, averting his eyes. “Where are your lackeys, Malfoy? Get tired of your whining and run off?”

Draco scowled. “No, Potter, my _friends_ didn’t run off. I need a break sometimes too. But unlike you, my life isn’t a paradise, so I actually have a valid reason.” Honestly, who did Potter think he was? His friends were perfect, and nice, and he was rich and happy with his little Weasel girlfriend and all her Weasel siblings. Whereas Draco had one person in his entire dorm who didn’t despise his very soul, and that’s only because Blaise couldn’t care less who was on what side in the war. He’d lost the only two people he’d ever actually considered friends during the battle, and it had only been by shoving it down deep inside of him and not thinking about it that Draco was able to move forwards and live his life. Or, that is, what was left of his life. Next to no fortune, father in prison, mother in a constant state of depression, his mentor and godfather gone; Draco wasn’t quite sure what was still left of his life from before the war. Not even his owl, Archimedes, had survived. 

Harry scowled back. “Whatever, Malfoy.” He spat out, before turning away. Draco watched as he got farther and farther from him, and frowned to himself. Harry did seem really upset about something, and he had obviously come to the library and tried to talk to him for a reason. Despite his conflicting emotions on Harry Potter, Draco knew that the larger part of him still desired his acceptance and friendship. And so it was with this in mind, that Draco got up from the table and started walking after the brunette.

Just as Harry reached the library doorway, Draco said, “Wait, Potter.” And proceeded to jog up to the now unmoving boy. 

"What, Malfoy?" Harry sounded defeated, and the words came out on a sigh.

  
Draco frowned and stepped around the other boy to try to get a look at his face. Something was definitely off. "What's wrong? Why'd you want to talk to me?" Draco attempted to catch Harry's gaze, but Potter refused to look up.

"What makes you think I wanted to talk to you?" 

Draco scoffed and ignored the insult. And the urge to insult him back. 'Time to be productive, Draco,' he told himself. 'Not the time to fall into childish habits.' "You interrupted my reading time, in the most remote part of the library, Potter. I'm not an idiot. So, go on then." He waved his hand in the air, trying to get Potter to talk to him.   
Harry sighed and finally looked up, his eyes meeting Draco's. 'Wow,' Draco thought, 'they are really, _really_ green up close.' He shook himself out of his thoughts to hear Potter speak.

"I just...needed a break from everything, you know? I love Ron and Hermione, and the rest of the Gryffindors, but they just... well, anyways, I just needed a break, and decided the library would do. But now I'm fine, so I'm just gonna go..." Harry slipped past Draco.

Draco's eyes narrowed. Wait a second, that still didn't explain why Potter had interrupted him...

"No, Potter."

Harry stopped in his tracks, his body half way out the library doors. "What?"

Draco shook his head. "You're lying about something, and I want to know what. Why'd you come talk to me if all you were trying to do was escape? No, it doesn't make sense." He stared at the other boy, not blinking, waiting for an answer. He watched as Potter turned his body all the way around while sighing, his narrow shoulders moving up and down. He wanted to know what had made Potter decide to stop at _his_ table, what had made Harry begin a conversation with _him_ of all people, his school nemesis. Why he needed a break.

He needed to know why Harry had chosen him over his friends, even if it had just been for a moment.

Harry's face turned red, before it went completely blank, as if he'd just shut down. "No, I'm not. You're not as important as you seem to think you are, Malfoy." And with those parting words, Harry rushed out of the library and down the hall. Draco stared after him, an insult and denial on his lips, before he narrowed his eyes and turned to stalk back to his table. 

"What a complete arse, who does he think he is? He interrupted _me_ , and insulted _me_ , not the other way around the bloody wanker! Fine, he doesn't want to tell me, whatever, that's his problem, what do I care?" Draco muttered to himself as he gathered his books together and stalked out of the library down to the dungeons. But even as angry and pissed off as he was at the other boy, Draco knew deep down that he did care. It had hurt, to see Potter close himself off after nearly opening himself up to the blonde, and Draco felt like a truce had been on offer but had been snatched away before he'd even had the chance to accept it. 

His thoughts were still on the other boy when he reached the dungeons and the Slytherin Common Room, and as a result he ended up crashing into another person.

"Oof!" He said, falling onto the dormitory floor, his books falling all around him as they tumbled out of his arms.

"Hey! Watch it, traitor!" Pansy Parkinson's screech filled the air as she was jostled backwards. Draco winced and glanced up, only to see her wand raising to point at him. He tried to get his wand out of his robe pocket, but because he was sitting down he couldn't manage to pull it out. Her spell hit him directly in the chest, and her triumphant smirk was the last thing he saw before everything went dark. 


	2. Chapter 2

Draco's eyes opened slowly, and he felt sharp pains in his chest. What the hell had Pansy done?

"Hey, Draco? You alright?" Blaise was crouched down beside where he was still lying on the floor, his wand out. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"What do you think?" He said bitterly, before forcing his body to cooperate and sitting up.

Blaise smirked and rolled his eyes. "What happened? I came in a few minutes ago and saw you just laying there. You fall asleep or something?" He said, his smirk growing.

Draco scowled, and used one hand to push Blaise over. "Ha bloody ha. No, Pansy hit me with something, I think it might have been a stunner but I'm not sure." He used the nearest wall to help support himself as he hauled his battered body off the floor. He winced again as sharp pains flew trough his chest. Hell. That was where he would send Pansy the next time he saw her, fucking Hell.

Blaise frowned at him as he winced again, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I know she's been the worst about it all. Although, Daphne's pretty pissed too, from what I hear." 

Draco shrugged, before gasping a bit at the pain the small motion caused. Fuck, definitely not doing _that_ again. "Yeah, her and Astoria tried to poison my pumpkin juice yesterday morning, but McGonagall caught them and gave them detention for a week. Which just means they'll be more pissed at me, but whatever." Not like he wasn't used to hostility, seeing as most of the school had hated him for the better part of 7 years. He just wasn't used to his housemates hating his guts yet, and it was taking some getting used to, but he was sure he'd figure it out. He tried to take a step forwards, only to have his legs buck under him as the pain from his chest increased and it felt as if someone was cutting his chest open and trying to remove his organs. "Ah, fuck!"

Blaise sighed and raised his wand, waving it over Draco's chest a few times. "Stop moving, you bloody idiot, I think you broke a rib or something." He waved his wand a few more times and cringed. "Yeah, broke two. Hold on, let me fix them."

Draco waited patiently, albeit painfully, for Blaise to finish. As Blaise's wand stopped moving, Draco felt a click inside his chest, before the pain lessened and he was able to breath without feeling like his body was on fire. Taking a few much needed deep breaths, he tried taking an experimental step forwards. When he succeeded, Draco smiled and took another. 

"Thanks, Blaise, I owe you one." He said, lifting his head to glance at the only person in his house he could still consider a friend, although they hadn't ever been very close.

Blaise nodded and turned around, walking over to sit down in a leather chair. "Don't mention it. Taking a stunner to the chest from less than a foot away could easily have done more damage, so you're bloody lucky."

Draco shrugged, smirking when he was able to complete the motion painlessly. "I doubt it was luck. More likely Pansy's spell wasn't particularly strong." He said, striding towards his favourite chair and flopping gracelessly down into it. "Any idea how long I was out?" 

Blaise shook his head, pulling his wand out and casting Tempus to check the time. "No, but it's nearly time for dinner."

Draco thought for a moment, trying to figure out what time it had been when he'd entered the Common Room. "So, I'd say I was out for about...what, half an hour? Yeah, that seem's about right." He said to himself, before leaping up from the chair and looking wildly around the room. Where on earth were his books? If he lost them or brought them back damaged, Madam Pince would kill him! He searched the room with his eyes frantically, even as he took his wand out to cast a summoning spell. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw them come flying towards his outstretched hand from underneath the table in the corner.

Placing them down on the table in front of his chair, he made sure they were all accounted for, before leaving them to step towards the door. "Coming to dinner?" He asked

Blaise from over his shoulder as he walked towards the Common Room door. "Nah, I'll meet you down there, I wanna finish that essay Flitwick gave us first." Blaise replied, head bent over his Charms book and his hand scribbling away at the piece of parchment in front of him.

  
Draco shrugged and left the Common Room, making his way out of the Dungeons and to the Great Hall alone. As he neared the doors to the hall, Draco heard the voices of Weasley and Granger. Turning the corner, he saw the Golden Trio standing to the side of the Great Hall doors, Granger speaking loudly towards Potter, while Weasley nodded vehemently beside them. Draco watched as Potter said something, and saw Granger and Weasley both freeze, before Granger stomped away and Weasley exploded, his shout of, "Now look what you've done!" sounding out loudly in the narrow corridor. Draco winced as Weasley stomped after his girlfriend, both of them slamming through the doors to the Great Hall and slamming them shut behind them. 

He watched as Potter blew out a breath and stared down at the ground, before straightening his shoulders and stepping away from the hall and towards the doors leading to the school grounds. Harry pushed the doors open and slipped through, out into the slowly darkening evening air. As Draco made his way towards the Great Hall doors, he hesitated. Should he go after him? Or should he eat, and ignore the fact that Harry Potter had just had a huge falling out with his best friends and might need someone to talk to? Yeah, Potter had been rude earlier, but so what? Maybe he'd be more willing to talk now that his friends had stormed off. As Draco shifted from foot to foot at the Great Hall doors, trying to make up his mind, he heard the grating voice of Pansy Parkinson nearing. He made a split second decision and slipped out the doors and onto the grounds outside. He told himself it was purely to avoid another confrontation with Pansy, and that it had nothing to do with Harry Potter at all. And the thudding of his heart in his chest when he spotted Potter walking towards the lake? Purely coincidence. 

Draco rushed forwards, running until he caught up with Harry. "Potter."

Harry whirled around, his wand pointing out at Draco. "Merlin!" he swore loudly, putting his wand back into his pocket and scowling. "Malfoy, I almost hexed you! Don't sneak up on me like that." He glared at the other boy.

Draco only nodded, saying, "Why aren't you in the Great Hall?"

"None of your business, is it?" Harry muttered, flopping down onto the grass.

Draco raised an eyebrow before sitting gingerly, his legs crossed and his hands in his lap. "I guess not. You, Granger and Weasley not getting along?" 

Harry turned his head sharply, looking at him from narrowed eyes. "How do _you_ know? Are you spying on me, or something?"

Draco snorted. Him, spying? _Puh-lease_. "Potter, like it or not I do have better things to do than spend my limited free time spying on you." He shifted on the ground. "The truth is, I overheard part of your argument."

Potter snorted right back. "Eavesdropping? I should have guessed."

Draco scowled. "I hardly needed to eavesdrop, did I? What with your friends Weasley and Granger shouting everything out as loud as they possibly could. I'd be surprised if Hagrid didn't hear it, all the way out here."

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry, I'm just upset, I guess. I hate fighting with them." Potter sighed and leaned back. Draco's scowl turned into a frown.

"Why were you fighting?" He tentatively asked, wondering if Potter would bite his head off again like he'd done earlier in the library. He watched as Harry turned his head to look at him. _Damn,_ he thought. _Why, out of all the colours, did I pick green as my favourite_?

Harry stared at him searchingly, before answering. "They don't understand why I can't be around them all the time, why I don't want to spend all my time with Gryffindors. But I just can't! They keep going on about what they want to do after school's done this year, about what jobs they want and where they want to be. And Hermione keeps telling me I should make myself a public figure, someone who the public can count on, or something. As if I haven't been enough of a public figure my whole life! I'm just so _tired_ of it, you know? I haven't had time to figure out who I am without the war, never mind trying to figure out what I want to be, or where I want to live!" Harry threw his hands up in the air in frustration. "And everyone else is treating me differently, like just because I finally managed to kill Voldemort, I'm somehow a different person or something. Even the Slytherins are treating me differently! They keep trying to wedge their way into my life, pretending they want to be my friends or something. I hate it, I fucking hate it."

  
Draco's eyes widened throughout the speech, and his hands were clasped tightly in his lap by the end of it. Oh god, he'd thought he was the only one. He knew what it felt like, having the people you'd considered friends, the people in your house, treat you differently. He knew what it was like, not being quite sure of who you are without all the fighting and purpose. And now here was Harry Potter, telling him that he felt the exact same way, and hated it all just as much. Draco gulped, and ignored the warm feeling in his chest at the knowledge he wasn't as solitary as he'd thought.

"Is that why you were in the library earlier?" He asked.

Harry nodded."Yeah."

Draco's brow furrowed. "But, why talk to me? I mean... well, why me?"

Harry rolled his eyes up to the now dark sky, as if searching for an answer there, before rolling them back down. "I don't know, Malfoy. I guess I just thought...well, we've never been friends, actually, we've always hated each other really, but...you've always been the same, you know? You've never acted differently around me, and now, after the war, I just want to live a normal life. But everyone is being so... so different, and treating me differently, and I just wish- well, I wish they wouldn't."

Draco's raised his eyebrows, and was about to respond when Harry continued.

"But you don't, treat me differently I mean. And that's- that's good, yeah? You're normal, you're still Draco Malfoy, and I guess what with everyone else acting different I just needed someone who wouldn't. So I- I mean, well, would you -" Harry stopped talking abruptly, giving his head a little shake.

"Well, I'm flattered Potter. Truly, glad I could be of such use to you in your time of need-" Draco began sarcastically, not really knowing how to respond to such honesty and- dare he say, kindness -from the other boy.

Potter cut him off by leaning forwards a bit, his lips quirking a bit at the sides. "See, that's what I mean; same old Draco Malfoy. And I think I need that right now. No, I _know_ I need that right now. So." He lifted a hand up, palm waiting, in the air. "Forget about the past and let's start over."

Draco's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Was he dreaming? "Are you serious?" He asked, his voice barely over a whisper. Was this really happening?

Potter smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I am. So, Malfoy. Friends?" His hand moved forwards slightly in the air, and Draco's eyes flashed down to it. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his mind was racing a mile a minute. It was really happening, _Harry Potter_ was actually asking _him_ if he wanted to be friends. _He wasn't dreaming_. Oh. My. God.

Did he want to be friends with Harry Potter? _God, yes_. He'd wanted it for ages, it's all he can remember ever really wanting. He wanted it with all of his soul, and there was no way he was ever letting this opportunity go, no matter how much the other Slytherin's would hate him for it.

When Draco looked up finally, his silver eyes were shining, and he lifted a hand up to grasp Potters' tightly. "Yes, Potter. Friends." He said, testing the foreign word out to see if he liked the way it sounded. Verdict? Yes sir, he certainly did.


End file.
